A New Reason To Fight: An Intergalactic Romance

by T. J. Brandow

  “So you’re really going to ditch me for a land rover?” she complained. “Some twin brother you are.”

  “Linnid, trust me,” he sighed. “I’m doing it for your own good. How are you going to learn to perform under pressure if there never is any? One of these days, you’ll actually thank me for this.”

  “Not while life exists in this galaxy,” she snorted derisively.

  “Captain, are you really going out on that thing?” asked Miss Annoying as he mounted the rover and began driving it toward the exit doors. He was completely decked out in leathers and a biker helmet already.

  “That’s the plan, Miara Dree,” he shrugged. “Spring Break is clearly not the place for me. I’ll expect to see all of you who hope to return to Karriana using my transport to rendezvous at Roswell in two weeks.”

  “Roswell,” she said with a giggle. “I’m pretty curious to visit that site as well.”

  “I hear they’ve erected a museum about aliens and their technology,” Lobo smirked. “I’d kind of like to see that too.”

  With that, he rolled out the door and pressed the button to cloak his rover to look like one of the Earth motorbikes. It even emulated a Harley’s roar. No human who came anywhere near the thing would be able to detect the difference while the shielding was in place. With a nod of satisfaction, Lobo headed out onto the road, not even bothering to wave good-bye.

  *****

  By the end of one week on his solitary journey, Lobo had already traveled from Fort Lauderdale to several other states, visiting interesting museums and scenic look-outs and such all along the way. He had even veered north long enough to see the Corn Palace, cars configured to look like Stonehenge, and a really huge ball of yarn. Sappy tourist stuff. It had been great.

  Yesterday, though, he’d opted for something a little more up his alley. He’d drove down to Houston and took every space-related tour he possibly could, and then during the day today he’d drove up through Fort Worth and on westward so he could head into New Mexico and explore a few more things along the way there.

  Trouble was, he’d gotten himself lost in the midst of all the agricultural lands and country roads, and his directional finder was malfunctioning. Worse yet, it had started to rain, and it was probably about midnight, so there was no way he was going to find anybody he could ask for help. He had just decided to trace the length of an old farm road back to its source, and turned his rover accordingly.

  With farm lands on either side of him, it was difficult to know if he was headed north or south, but he knew he was likely to find a highway regardless. Finally, he managed to come to a crossroad with a marker. The fact that he was about to turn onto seventy and take it to Plainsview wasn’t much of a relief, since that didn’t tell him anything, really. Not without the map he so desperately needed.

  More annoyed than anything else, Lobo looked down at the little gauge that should have been locating magnetic north, tapping at it impatiently. He was so busy with the task that he failed to see the headlights as another driver approached him on the road.

  His first indication that all was not well was the distinctive sound of a semi-truck slamming on its brakes. By the time he looked up and saw the thing headed straight for him, it was too late to get completely out of the way.

  TWO

  By the time Maggie finally reached the fork onto seventy, she could barely hold open her eyes. She knew she shouldn’t be driving in her condition, but she just couldn’t seem to stop herself. Anger and hurt were building up together inside her belly, and if she tried, she doubted she’d ever be able to shut her eyes.

  At midnight on a weekday, she believed she was pretty much guaranteed to have the road to herself. The last thing she was looking for at that moment was a motorcycle to suddenly dart in from the side, right in front of her. She slammed her brakes so hard she almost thought she had broken her foot as the semi skidded to a halt—but not soon enough to avoid the bike completely, causing the motorcycle to scrape along the asphalt as its driver flew about twenty feet off to the side.

  “Holy hell!” Maggie shouted. Her heart was racing as she applied the emergency brake and practically flung herself from the cabin, falling to her knees on the way down. She ran toward the ditch where the bike had come to a stop, cutting her palm on one of the broken shards of metal as she moved the handlebars aside. When she saw that the rider was nowhere to be found she looked around, spotting the poor victim on the other side of the fence belonging to one of the local farms. “Hey? Are you okay?”

  Dazed but alive, the driver lifted one hand, waving at her weakly before dropping it again.

  “We need to get you to town,” she decided, helping the person up, and discovering that for some reason he or she couldn’t walk.

  A masculine voice grunted out, “My bike. We can’t just leave it here. You’ve got to bring it along.”

  “Do I look strong enough to lift that bike into my truck to you?” she scoffed.

  “Don’t worry,” he insisted. “This one is really light. Go ahead, set me down for a minute and give it a try.”

  “Well, fine, if you say so,” she shrugged skeptically. “I’m just glad to see that you’re all right.”

  Maggie went over and lifted the bike, which practically weighed nothing at all. She was amazed as she carried it right over to the back of the truck, set it down long enough to bust the seal on the door, and slid the thing in before sealing it again.

  Returning to the man, she said, “Wow, that was incredible. Now let’s hope you’re just as easy to get inside.”

  “My leg does not appear functional,” he replied. “I may require a bit of help.”

  Maggie helped him get up, and threw his arm over her shoulders so she could get him to the passenger side of the truck. “That’s a pretty big leap up one-legged,” she sighed. “Do you think you can climb?”

  Grunting painfully, the man forced himself up and into the seat, then laid back into it, panting. “I’m in,” he said between gasps. “Let’s go.”

  Maggie got into the truck and started to drive. “Say, you may want to take off that helmet for the ride. We’ve still got a good twenty minutes before we reach Plainsview. There’s no reason to be more uncomfortable than you already are. Soon as we get into town, I’ll take you over to the hospital, all right?”

  He was just pulling the helmet free when he heard that, and he started with alarm. “No,” he insisted urgently. “No hospital!”

  She looked the guy over briefly. He had black hair that he had pulled back, and it was too dark to get a good look at his eyes. However, there was enough light to cause her a bit of concern.

  “You’re bleeding!” Maggie gasped.

  “I know,” he replied, wiping at his forehead.

  “But your blood isn’t red,” she added, flipping on the overhead. “Holy hell, mister, your blood is green.”

  “I’m not from around here,” he explained through gritted teeth. “If you take me to a hospital they’ll only try to keep me and run experiments. Hardly the vacation I was envisioning. You can’t take me anywhere near the place. You’re going to have to patch me up yourself.”

  “You’re—on vacation?” asked Maggie. But he didn’t answer her. He seemed to have passed out in his seat. “Jesus, this is insane!” she grumbled, continuing to drive in silence. They hit the outskirts, and she made a decision. She didn’t really want to report this mess to her insurance company anyway, let alone get stuck with a bunch of unwanted publicity.

  Driving right past Fred’s house, with the two cars in its driveway, she hightailed it home without even taking a second glance. She left the bike he’d been riding in back for later, and concentrated on getting her unexpected visitor into the house instead.

  Maggie’s first-aid kit had a lot of things inside, but sutures to sew shut an alien’s flesh wounds was not one of them. As crazy as it might seem, she needed to do something. Running around like a chicken with its head cut off was not helping.

&nb
sp; She glanced speculatively over at her sewing machine, then darted over to grab a darning needle and white thread. Though it probably didn’t matter much at this point, she figured white thread might have less dye in the cotton than the others. She threaded the needle, took a deep breath, and then grabbed a bottle of whiskey off the shelf. First she uncapped it and pulled herself a long drink. Then she doused the wound, which was just above his eyebrow.

  Sewing it shut quickly but carefully, she realized she should probably get a look at the rest of him as well before she assumed her task was complete. She looked at the deep green stains instead of red on her fingers disconcertedly, noticing that some of it had smeared into the cut on her hand she’d gotten from the bike. But she had no time to worry about her own needs right now. She didn’t know how much bleeding this guy could do before it just happened to make him dead?

  Her task in mind, the first thing Maggie did was remove the alien’s shirt. Other than being a bit pale compared to other men, he really did look just like a human until you made him bleed. And in this one’s case, a rather muscular and handsome one, at that. She tried not to notice his perfect chest and his six-pack—make that eight-pack—abs, but it was difficult. Damned two-timing Fred didn’t look anything like this!

  She had him down to his skivvies, and she was feeling decidedly heated up, when she figured that she ought to stop. What were the odds the guy was bleeding from a flesh wound in the underwear region anyway? Besides, it looked like he was starting to wake up.

  “We need to get you cleaned up, mister,” she told him. “I patched up the leaks, but I haven’t gotten around to hosing down the chassis, if you know what I mean?”

  “Not really,” he admitted ruefully.

  “I mean that you need to take a shower,” she shrugged. “Except that I haven’t had a look at that leg.”

  “Let’s worry about it after I’ve washed all the dirt and blood away,” he suggested. “I wouldn’t want anybody else to see me like this.”

  “I live alone,” said Maggie. “I don’t expect anybody else will.”

  “Alone?” he asked curiously. “Then why the man’s jacket on the peg over there?”

  She blushed, thinking of Fred for the first time in the last hour. “Oh, well, it belongs to my boyfriend. He left it here in case he forgets to bring his own. But don’t worry, that two-timing filth is at his own house, and if that second car was any indication, he isn’t there alone.”

  The man nodded. “That is unfortunate. Will you help me get to the bathroom?”

  “Of course I will,” she said, instantly remembering he couldn’t do it alone. “I’m sorry, you got my mind on other things. If you’ll give me that last item of your clothing, I’ll see about washing everything up for you.”

  “Thanks—um, I suppose I don’t know your name,” he chuckled as she helped him to stand. “I’m Lobo.”

  “Lobo, as in a wolf?” she asked curiously.

  “No, it actually means ‘the desert sun’ in my own language,” he chuckled. “It’s never had anything to do with your world, it just worked out that way.”

  “I’m Maggie,” she told him, chuckling. As she sat him on the toilet she added, “You know, I’ve never introduced myself to a space alien.”

  Grinning, he said, “Yes? Well, I suppose there’s a first time for everything. Say, Maggie, while I’m in here, would it be possible for you to fix us something to eat?”

  “Do you eat human food?” she wanted to know.

  “I mostly eat protein,” he replied.

  “Well then, Lobo, I believe you’ve come to the right place. I’ll go make us some bacon and eggs.”

  “Sounds great,” he said, yanking off his boxer briefs and setting them into her hands. He grinned wickedly when she blushed. “Why the red face?”

  “Um, good-looking strangers don’t tend to strip down in front of me either.”

  “Clearly, you’ve been hanging around with the wrong strangers then,” he teased. “Could you help me into the basin before you leave?”

  “Sure thing,” Maggie agreed, willing herself to keep her eyes firmly planted on his face. “Give me a holler when you’re ready to get out again, okay?”

  “Will do.”

  When she saw that he apparently knew how to operate the plumbing, Maggie hurried out and shut the door, leaving him to it. She couldn’t believe that she was panting, and it wasn’t just from the exertion of helping him.

  “What the hell is wrong with me?” she muttered as she ran her hands slowly over her hardening nipples and sucked in a huge breath of air. “I’ve never felt this hot before!”

  Shaking her head to clear it, Maggie went into the kitchen and set to the task of fixing the two of them a meal. Sure, it was a novelty, having a naked alien calendar model type all hot and wet in one’s bathtub, but that was no reason to be acting like a teenager instead of a twenty-nine year old woman. She needed to pull herself together.

  THREE

  Lobo took some time to lounge in his bath and let his mind wander as his body soaked. However, he soon began to realize something rather important. He was thinking about Maggie, and feeling aroused. In fact, a sense of longing for the voluptuous redhead was beginning to invade his soul.

  “Not good,” he muttered with a worried frown. “I have never wanted anyone this much before.”

  For a moment he contemplated taking the edge off of his aching need, but he quickly thought better of the idea. The last thing he needed was for the Earth woman to come back in and find him doing that.

  With so much pain running through his limb, he was amazed thoughts of a sexual nature were in his head at all. Which only made his suspicions about the cause ferment more fully in his mind. But to confirm them, he needed to get out of this tub and question the woman rather specifically. And he didn’t see how he could do that while his anatomy was going crazy.

  Sighing deeply, Lobo decided to get out himself and find a towel so he could hide the situation. Once he’d covered himself, he called out, “Hey Maggie? A little help here?”

  “Be right there,” she called.

  When she stepped into the bathroom, Lobo’s eyes zeroed in on the fact that Maggie had wrapped a bandage around her hand. His heart began to thunder in his chest as he took this in.

  “Maggie, when exactly did you cut yourself?” he wanted to know.

  “Oh this? I cut it on your bike—or whatever you call that thing you were riding—right before I first tried to help you up,” she admitted, blushing. “I know I should have covered the wound before I tended to all of yours, but I think you were bleeding a whole lot worse than me at the time. I just wanted to make sure you’d be okay.”

  Mentally groaning at this turn of events, Lobo extended a hand and gently took ahold of one edge of the wrapping on hers. “Let me see it, please.”

  “Oh, come on, Lobo. I’ll be fine,” she grumbled, though she didn’t move away as he opened the bandage and examined her hand. Along the edges, he spied some telltale discoloration of a slightly orangish shade.

  “Gatru, Mags, that’s just what I was afraid of. I think there’s something I need to tell you,” he began. Before he could say another word, they both heard the front door bang against the inner wall and gave a sharp gasp. Lobo asked, “Who is that?”

  “There’s only one person it could possibly be,” she sighed dejectedly. “Vincent must have warned Fred that my truck was parked in my driveway. Those two are really tight, so there’s no way Vince would want me to find out about Fred and Jeanie. He must have tipped him off about me being home.”

  “Maggie May? Where are you?” Fred called out, his voice coming from her bedroom. His footsteps sounded louder than usual in her ears as he thundered down the hall.

  “What do we do now?” she asked worriedly.

  Before another word could leave Lobo’s mouth, the door to the bathroom opened, and Fred walked in to see a mostly naked man holding onto Maggie’s hand. Lobo quickly let it go, and Maggie
stepped in front of him like a shield.

  “What the hell is this?” Fred wanted to know.

  “It’s not what you’re thinking,” Maggie said quickly. “I hit him with my truck, and he refused to go to a hospital, so I had to bring him back here. We think his leg might be broken, so I came to help him out of the tub.”

  “Well, that’s convenient,” Fred scoffed. “And that’s probably why he’s got a tent in his towel, too, right? I’m out.”

  Maggie’s mouth fell open as she was torn between watching Fred storm out of the room or glancing down at Lobo’s towel. Her face went three shades of red, and she did not make a move to stop her boyfriend from leaving in any way. Lobo’s stomach flipped as he sucked in a breath. Had the mingling already gripped her as well?

  “Well, that just happened,” said Maggie, sighing deeply. “But I suppose it’s better this way. It gives him an excuse to stop sneaking around with Jeanie behind my back and finally admit they’re an item. Aw, hell!”

  “I take it you are not displeased?” Lobo asked sympathetically.

  “No, not really. I was planning on breaking up with him tonight when I found out she was at his house anyway, but I never got to do it, thanks to accidentally hitting you,” she replied. Then she laughed, holding onto her stomach as she sat down on the edge of the tub.

  “What’s so funny?” Lobo asked, unable to stop smiling.

  “Well, I was hoping that I’d catch him cheating on me tonight, but now he thinks that he caught me,” she pointed out. “Talk about the irony!”

  “Yes, I suppose that is somewhat amusing,” he agreed. “But I need you to settle down right now, because I have something very serious that we’re going to need to discuss. It’s important. Maybe even life-altering in a way you never dreamed.”

  “Wow, that sounds like a tall order,” she said, shivering. “Well, you can borrow some of Fred’s clothes until yours finish drying, I suppose. I think any life-changing discussions can wait that long, at least. Besides, covering you up just might make it a bit easier for me to concentrate.”